A Few Times
by The Atomic Cafe
Summary: Three ways Mac and Stella didn't spend their Christmas and one way they did.


**Jingle Bells**

**(Three Ways Mac and Stella Didn't Spend Their Christmas and One Way They Did)**

**By Dimgwrthien**

_Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or affiliates._

1. Apart

Snow settled over half of America, leaving it under a frosty blanket. The streets were filled with last-minute shoppers bundled in their heavy coats. Grimy footprints and tire treads littered the white wonderland, the smog collecting in the air as it always did. The few snowflakes still falling in the afternoon were a relief from the dirt.

Mac closed the door to his apartment after him and took off his coat. He couldn't help but shiver, and made a note to turn up the heater. He brushed a hand through his short hair, trying to free himself of the last snowflakes clinging onto him. They melted in his hand, and he shivered.

The red button on the answering machine blinked at him. Mac watched it uncomfortably, curious as to whether he should start hoping now. Stella hadn't called him yet, and the fact made him nervous and angry. After a moment, he walked over to it and pressed the play button.

"_Hey Mac_," came a recorded voice, and Mac left out a breath when he noticed it wasn't Stella's. Lindsay continued to talk. "_Sorry for calling on Christmas. Just needed to tell you we got approval to reopen the Halverson case. I'll see you later, then. Bye! Merry Christmas!_"

He clenched his jaw before deleting the message. He'd meet up with Lindsay when he got back to the lab. There was no point to ruining her Christmas now.

Mac sat down and pulled his cell phone off of his belt. He fingered the buttons for a moment, then dialed the number to Stella's hotel.

She had been sent to a conference in California two days ago. No one from the lab had heard from her since she left, and Mac hadn't been able to speak to her for several days before she left. Their cases together seemed to be further and further apart. He knew that she would be back a few days after the New Year, when the airport wasn't quite as crowded as it would be on a usual day of the holiday season.

The phone rang several times, then a voice answered. Mac shifted in his seat, draping himself over the arm of the couch. "Could you connect me to room…" He tried to remember the number. "Forty-seven. Stella Bonasera."

He heard a clicking from the other side of the phone as the numbers were exchanged over. The phone rang again, this time for longer. After a while, the voice came back. "Would you like me to take a message for Ms. Bonasera?"

Mac sighed. "Could you?" He listened to the shuffling of paper from the other end. He waited for it to end.

"Could I have your name, sir?"

"Mac Taylor. She should know my number." Mac hesitated. "Tell her I said Merry Christmas and that I hope she's doing well."

He heard scribbling. "Thank you, sir."

Mac thanked the man and hung up the phone. He held it in his hands as he leaned further into the couch, wanting to melt right into it. Not a word from Stella, and he couldn't help but feel a little offended at it.

Near his feet, on the end table, sat a wrapped present. Mac looked at the name on it for a while, seeing his own messy scrawl yell "Stella". _It's for you, Stella_, the present said over and over again. _Just come home and get it._

Mac sighed and tilted his head back to watch the ceiling. He didn't usually celebrate Christmas. It was just another day off.

He turned off his phone and placed it on the table beside her present, then leaned back and shut his eyes. He couldn't help but notice the gentle vibration from his phone, and cursed himself for only turning it to vibrate. He could barely remember how to turn it off after all this time.

"Taylor," he answered shortly. It hadn't been Stella's number of the caller ID.

"Mac." It was Lindsay again. "We're going to need you. Now."

-

The rest of the country remained in the limbo of perpetual cold and the dry heat. The desert remained untouched by frost and dew, but the winds pulled into the area, scratching at unprotected faces and making raw hands. Cars continued to drive just as well as usual, their heaters on only halfway, their owners complaining when the metal door handle got too cold to handle.

Stella leaned against the wall. She couldn't believe how long that man could talk, especially on Christmas. It seemed indecent to schedule a conference _now_ of all times. The meeting has only ended a few minutes before, and she could feel her stomach growl. Maybe there was time to grab a quick lunch before he kept talking.

She pulled her cell phone from her belt and looked through the missed calls. One from Sheldon. Stella smiled and made a note to try to return the call, though she couldn't think when.

The meeting had been like a mental break for her. It felt as though she was being rebuilt, not having to go to work and see bodies everyday. She didn't particularly enjoy the feeling, but it did relax her. By the time she got out of the meeting each day and remembered to check her calls, it was already late as hell in New York.

Stella looked around the hall and sighed. She wanted to ditch the rest of the meeting. Maybe if she was quiet enough….

She slipped through the crowd into the main lobby of the hotel, then smiled in triumph. Freedom. She scrolled through her missed calls again and couldn't help but feel some disappointment. Mac should have called by now.

The elevator door was closed, but they opened instantly when Stella pressed the button. She stepped inside and tapped at her floor number several times. The faster she was away, the better. Someone would notice sometime. If they came, she decided, she'd say she got sick during the presentation.

Once she opened the room to her room, she looked at the phone and was relieved to see the message waiting light flash at her. Stella grinned and slammed the door before racing for the phone. She dialed down to the front lobby.

The man from the lobby answered, and Stella quickly said, "Could I have my messages for room forty-seven?"

She heard the sound of him flipping through papers. "You missed a call from Mac Taylor, ma'am."

Stella sighed in relief.

"He said Merry Christmas, and he hopes you're doing well. Would you like the paper?"

"No thanks. Thank you for the message."

"You're welcome."

Stella hung up and couldn't stop the grin from spreading on her face. She picked up the phone again and dialed Mac's number.

The phone rang, but there was no answer.

Stella hung up again, frowning. It wasn't like Mac to not answer his phone. She picked up the phone another time, calling again to his house phone.

It rang once more before she heard his recorded voice. "You've reached Mac Taylor. Please leave a message."

She had never heard his answering machine before. It seemed so typical of him to have such a bland message, but it relieved her to hear his voice.

"Hey." She hesitated for a moment. Her heart dropped to her stomach when he didn't answer after that. "It's Stella." _As though he couldn't recognize your voice._ "I hope your Christmas is going well. Will you call me? I'm starting to miss you." She forced a laugh and hoped it didn't sound too false. "This conference is boring the hell out of me. I'll see you later, alright? Maybe I'll meet you at the airport if you're up to the traffic."

-

When Stella returned to New York, she was greeted by crowds. She smiled gratefully. Her city was back to her. Home.

Stella browsed the airport for a moment, trying to find a sign of Mac. He would know when to get her. They had gone over the time a dozen times before she left. One in the afternoon, January third.

She searched until most of the passengers from the plane were gone, trying to find their luggage. Still no sign of Mac. Stella walked slowly to the luggage drop-off, her steps heavy and dragging.

A familiar face met her there, grinning widely. Stella couldn't help but give a weak smile back as Sheldon handed her the bag she had brought.

"Glad to see you, Stella."

"Hey." Stella pulled him into a one-armed hug, still clutching the strap of her bag tightly. "Have you spoken to Mac?"

He fell silent for a while. Stella felt her mouth go dry. "He and Lindsay were on a case, and it didn't go quite as expected…" He spoke quietly, his words like mountains to Stella. She felt hot tears behind her eyes.

_Don't be dead_, she pleaded.

"I'll take you down to Presbyterian," Hawkes whispered, putting an arm around her, and Stella sighed in relief. Not dead. Just injured.

Merry fucking Christmas indeed.

2. At Home

Stella still hated the feeling of her apartment. It had too many bad memories in there, and she knew that Christmas wouldn't survive in a bright spirit in there. There was still the perpetual dust pattern from where that goddamn statue had been, no matter how many times she wiped it down.

Mac's apartment seemed more welcoming. It wasn't often that she had the chance to go over there. Mac invited very few people over, and it was almost as rare that Stella dropped in suddenly. They did live far away, but Stella always liked to call unless she couldn't.

Their long-standing Christmas plans were put to good use there.

Stella knocked on the door, then felt out of doorknob. It was loose, and Stella smiled when she realized he had left it unlocked just for her. It was too common for him to greet her with the sound of him unbolting the door slowly. He always treasured safety.

"Hey." Mac looked around the corner of the wall. "Right on time."

"Good." Stella stepped forward to follow him. "Looks like you had fun."

His apartment had always been sharp edges and contrasts. It wasn't unwelcoming, but it had a strict cleanliness to it, an organization that said _don't touch_. Now, though, it seemed more like an actual home. She couldn't help but smile at the miniature Christmas tree.

"Merry Christmas," Mac said as he watched Stella's wonderment. "Not as though I'm not allowed to have fun on holidays."

Stella grinned and fell in close to his side. He gave her a one-armed hug, which she gladly returned. "Merry Christmas, Mac." She leaned to her side and pressed a kiss against his warm cheek. Mac smiled.

"What're we doing?" she asked, still surveying the room with interest. "New York is given life on Christmas."

"Not going anywhere." Mac turned to her, and his smile widened. "I learned how to cook just for you, so don't even think about going anywhere."

"That's a scary thought." Stella peered around Mac. "If you say you made hamburgers, I'll laugh."

"Don't be mean." Mac stepped toward the kitchen, and Stella followed.

"Then if you say cookies, I'll laugh twice as hard."

Mac laughed. "Alright, what wouldn't you laugh at?"

Stella opened her mouth to answer, then paused. She only registered the candle on the table and the small vase with several roses peeking out of it.

-

"I didn't hear any laughter."

"You didn't make cookies."

"Or hamburgers."

"Or that."

Stella folded her arms on the table. She leaned forward, getting the slightest hint of the roses in the air. They smelled wet and cool. She could only bring herself to smile at Mac, a pathetic attempt to thank him.

"Merry Christmas," Mac said again, and Stella noticed that he still hadn't stopped smiling and neither had she.

"Merry Christmas." She bent her feet so that her toes hit the ground nervously. There were no more words to say. "Mac…"

He raised his eyebrows.

Stella hesitated. "How come we only do this at Christmas?"

Mac looked down and chewed on the inside of his cheek. "It's a time of giving?" he offered with a shrug.

"We should do this more often." Stella leaned back with a smile. "And I promise I won't insult your cooking."

"Was it really that bad?"

"Not at all."

"Good." Mac mimed her movements, leaning back in his chair and grinning. "Never thought I'd read a cookbook."

"You could have made up the strangest garbage in the world, and I would have still loved it." Stella gently tapped his leg with her foot. "Love you, Mac."

Mac froze for just an instant, then seemed to regain his composure. Stella watched him with interest. They were words she never thought would slip so easily from her mouth, but Mac was quick on his feet - he could deal with anything she threw at him.

What surprised her, though, was how difficult it seemed for him to deal with this situation. He smiled it off, though, and slowly replied, "Love you too, Stella."

-

The ever-crackling Yule Log served as a white noise in the background as they sat on the couch. Stella leaned against Mac again, her head resting against his shoulder and neck. The light of the fire glowed in his eyes, making them a lighter green than usual.

"Did you see the tree over at Rockefeller?" Stella asked.

Mac nodded. "It's hard to miss."

"Good point." Stella grinned. "I saw it at the perfect time earlier. It was snowing, and the sun was just starting to go down. Looked really nice."

"Sounds like it did." Mac tilted his head to rest on top of hers. "Want to go over and see it?"

"Not right now." She rubbed her hand down his arm and smiled. "You said we weren't going anywhere, remember?"

"I was talking about dinner." Mac continued to watch the burning log as though he was speaking to it. "New York is… what did you say again?"

"Given life on Christmas."

"That's right. Anything you want to do."

Stella bit her lip as she thought. "Know where I haven't been in a long time?" She waited for Mac to make a curious sound. "F. A. O. Schwartz."

Mac grinned. "A toy store? You want to go to a toy store?"

"It's a special toy store, isn't it?" Stella looked up and smiled. "Besides, it's New York. You can get away with anything here. Haven't you figured that out?"

Mac's grin didn't fade. "Alright. To the toy store. Nice choice, Stella."

"Thanks." She sat up, giving the televised log one last glance as she picked up her coat and put it on. Mac grabbed his keys off the coffee table and pocketed them before turning off the television and leading her to the door.

_Merry Christmas_, Stella thought happily. _Sometimes you just can't find this kind of Christmas cheer around the corner._

3. With Someone Else

Stella took a deep breath before moving her head off her pillow. She felt dizzy and could already tell it was a hang over. What the hell was going on last night? She searched her memory, failing to bring up any images.

The blankets beside her were wrinkled and thrown about. The pillow still had the impression of a head in it, and Stella smiled to herself. He'd already be out of bed now, making coffee or running down to the bakery. She sat up slowly, careful to avoid the thin beams of light coming in from between the blinds. The floor was cold, and she made a note to herself to turn on the heater.

The door into the apartment opened, and Stella tried to see out into the living room. She already knew who it was by the fall of his steps and the way he closed the door, but it comforted her to see him.

Don smiled at her as he put down a bag. He dug out two smaller, white packages. "Got you a bagel," he said. "Feelin' alright?"

Stella nodded. Don crossed over to her and leaned down to kiss her. "Yeah," she answered. "How much did I drink?"

"Most of the bottle. I swear, I only got one glass." He grinned as he sat down beside her with the package and took off his shoes. "Don't worry, though. It's a holiday."

"Does that make me innocent?" she joked.

Don paused and shrugged. "No. It's just that you're not expected in at work today."

"Not unless there's a mass murder in Rockafeller." Stella grinned at the look on Don's face. "Alright, not really, but I'm still on call."

"Don't see why." He handed her one of the wrapped bagels. "You like poppy, right?"

Stella nodded as she unwrapped it. It was still warm. "Where on earth do you find somewhere open on Christmas?"

Don shrugged. "Sometimes you get lucky and they're run by a Jew or a Chinese guy or just someone who feels like working on Christmas." He leaned in and winked. "I just happen to know the bakers within a ten mile radius."

Stella laughed and shook her head. "I suppose that comes in handy, then." She bit into the bagel. Extra cream cheese.

He nodded. "Usually, yeah." He ate his bagel quickly as he looked out the window. "If you're not too hung over, you wanna find something to do today?"

"Sure." Stella took another bite, chewing slowly. Her headache was already starting to die down with some food. "What do you have in mind?"

"So far, just a quick trip around, see if there's anything interesting going on."

"I know you." Stella playfully hit his shoulder with a smile. "We're going to walk right into some crime, and you're going to spend half the day arresting the guy."

"I promise to behave."

"Pfft." Stella laughed again, this time quietly. "Alright, just because you promised."

-

Peyton toyed with the decorations on the small tree. One of the red ornaments, traditional in every sense of the holiday, spun on the gold hook. It came to a stop after a moment and began to spin back the opposite way.

"Came out nicely," she said, touching another ornament.

Mac nodded as he sat down. Peyton glanced up and moved to sit next to him. She sat close to him, her arm touching his chest. Mac put an arm around her shoulders.

"Merry Christmas," he said quietly, and Peyton nodded. She turned, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought him into a slow kiss. Mac hesitated for a moment before holding her by the waist. She ignored his hesitation.

"I have your present." Peyton quickly moved away from him, reaching by the tree for the wrapped box. She grinned as she handed it to him.

Mac smiled as he looked at it. She watched him expectantly. His mouth was curved up into a small smile, and he looked down at the bow and reindeer wrapping paper. Peyton loved his face like that and couldn't bring herself to look away.

"Open it," she prompted.

He looked up at her, still smiling. "Maybe I should give you yours first."

Peyton raised her eyebrows, but did not object. "Alright," she said slowly. Mac leaned past her, picking up the other box by the tree. He handed it to her.

Still smiling, Peyton gently shook it and laughed. Mac's smile widened slightly, and she pulled open the wrapping paper. She looked at the white box, then looked up at Mac. He looked down at his hands, the small smile barely present on his lips. Peyton frowned at him, confused, as she pulled open the box.

She ignored the necklace inside as she pulled at a small slip of paper inside the box. As she read it over once, twice, three times, she dropped the box and necklace and looked at Mac.

"What?" she asked.

Mac leaned forward again, kissing her forehead. He could see his own handwriting on the note and hated himself for it. He hated himself for standing then, for picking up his coat and walking outside.

He hated the cold air and snow on his cheeks as he stood outside the apartment, his hands deep in his pockets. He forced himself to walk forward, though, out into the street and down the opposite sidewalk back home.

"Merry Christmas, Peyton," he sighed to himself, trying to keep his steps and breathing even.

One Way They Did

Stella tilted her chair back and put her feet on the table between herself and Mac. Mac glanced at her feet as though in a warning, but she didn't move them. The break room was empty, as was most of the lab.

"We should run out and get coffees," Stella said after a moment of silence.

Mac crossed his arms and leaned forward. "No."

She let her chair fall back as she took her feet off the table. "You know, we're never going to get a call today."

"What makes you say that?"

"People are too busy _celebrating_ to kill each other."

Mac smiled. "There's coffee right behind you."

"I mean real coffee, not watery shit."

"It's not that watery."

Stella sighed as she mimed Mac's position, leaned in close to his face. "It won't hurt to leave for five minutes. It's just like a lunch break."

Mac glanced at the clock. "It's nine."

"A long lunch break."

Mac laughed as he looked through the glass walls of the break room. "Fine," he answered after a moment. "I'll get you some coffee." He stood up, looking at Stella. "As long as you don't put your feet on the table again."

"Not like it's your house." Stella stood up, smiling, as she buttoned her coat. "I'll make sure to lock the lab once we get out."

"Why?"

"So that you can't get back in." She grinned at Mac's look. "Just kidding. I promise we'll be back working within three hours."

Mac gave her a warning look, but Stella purposely tried to look distracted so as not to see him. "Stella…"

"Just kidding, Mac!" She laughed again. "It's Christmas, and we're working. Why?" When Mac didn't answer, she continued. "There aren't any cases right now. It's fine to go and celebrate the holiday for a few hours, isn't it?"

Mac opened the door out of the break room for her. Stella exited. "Just a few hours," he said as he closed the door.

"Great!" Stella clapped her hands together. "What're we doing?"

"Hmm? We?"

Stella nodded. "Yeah. I mean, if you _want_ to stay in the lab, I'm guessing you have no plans."

Mac raised his eyebrows. "You really assumed that?"

"Yeah." Stella tilted her head as they walked down the hall to the front doors. "Did you have plans for today? Other than sitting around the lab?"

Mac didn't look at her. "Maybe."

"And they would be…?"

Mac didn't answer, but smiled as he opened the front doors for Stella. She walked out into the snow. "Let's get you that coffee."

"Cheers," Stella laughed. "I guess you were planning something embarrassing, like watching a school play version of _The Nutcracker_."

Mac smiled. "Not quite."

"Oh?"

"I was almost tempted to see a _good_ version of it, though."

"Is Mac actually interested in the _ballet_?" Stella asked jokingly as they walked into the parking lot.

"Are you?"

Stella paused next to Mac's car, looking at him curiously. He raised his eyebrows as he climbed into the driver's seat, and Stella quickly followed him into the car. "A little," she answered.

"Perfect." Mac smiled as he opened the glove compartment. "I think I hid the tickets in there."

Stella laughed as she looked inside. She was surprised when she saw two purple and gold tickets sitting inside. "Mac?"

"Merry Christmas, Stella."


End file.
